Ringing in the holidays...

Bell choir puns should generally be avoided, because:
1-They are entirely too easy, and
2-Bell choirs enjoy them entirely too much.

However, there are not a whole lot of bell choirs around Starbuck, so I think I am fairly safe.

That said, check out this video. It's a local news segment featuring the handbell choir of a church in West Columbia, SC (there area where I went to seminary). They are playing a Christmas tune witha lovely variety of handbell effects. If you have never had the chance to see a handbell choir in action, it's worth checking out just for that--otherwise, you can amuse yourself by trying to figure out which of the guys playing the really big bells is one of my classmates from seminary, who is doing his internship at that congregation, and who has seen my dad's rock band in person (unlike me). (He and his wife are both knitters, as well. Nobody tell Pastor Paul.)*

I have always considered handbells a particularly churchly instrument, because, well, the nature of the choir is that you need everyone working together for it to work. If one person drops out, you have a serious gap--but if one person plays alone, you have no melody. This is a great illustration of life in the Body of Christ! This particular group does a great job--they don't go much into the two-bells-in-one-hand technique or the really exceedingly high treble bells, but they really go for the big bass ones. Be on the lookout for the mallets in the beginning and the martellato** at the end.

~Pastor Sarah

*I kind of hate to admit it, but facebook is actually pretty good for finding out this kind of stuff about people you used to go to school with. And then appropriating their cool links.

**What's a martellato, you ask? Well, it's that thing they do at the end.

Sing, choirs of angels!

Yesterday, it was my privilege to sing Christmas carols* with two very different groups of people: the residents of the Minnewaska Lutheran Home and the kids who come to our after-school program, K.I.C.K.

At the nursing home Christmas service in the morning, the residents' choir sang "It Came Upon the Midnight Clear":

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold

...and "that glorious song of old" never sounded better than when sung by the voices of God's faithful in that place. Women often tell me that they can't sing like they used to--well, I didn't get to hear these women "back then", so I can't compare, but right now, I firmly believe that their songs are as precious and lovely in God's ears as the voices of the angels.

In the afternoon, we went Christmas caroling to the apartments next door with the K.I.C.K. kids. They did a great job (some of them even volunteered to sing "Silent Night" in Spanish), and even got to the third verse of "Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful", which goes:

Sing, choirs of angels,
Sing in exultation,
Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above!

And once again I was struck by the thought that choirs of angels never sounded better! Some of the kids have wonderfully musical voices; others are more enthusiastic than tuneful. Some of them obviously love to sing; some of them would like you to think they would rather be somewhere else. This isn't the kind of music you get on recordings of kids singing Christmas carols: so sweet and adorable and perfect. This is real kids, really singing--and I am convinced that the choirs of angels themselves love to hear them, and maybe even sing along.

After all, the choirs of angels didn't sing for the great musicians of the court--they sang for shepherds, who probably didn't have a lot of musical training. And Jesus didn't come to the powerful elite--he came to ordinary people, in an ordinary town, in an ordinary way--so that we can all join in the song.

~Pastor Sarah

*Okay, so it isn't Christmas yet, but sometimes you have to make an exception.

Follow-up: Captive Free

I just realized that although I posted that Captive Free was coming to Starbuck, I never said anything about how it went! I had a great time at both the Saturday night program and the Sunday morning service. Both were a little light on youth attendance (what's up with that? anyone?), but I got a lot of great comments from the people who were there. The music was lovely (I really love organ and piano music and traditional hymns, but it does my heart good to hear something different from time to time), the team was fantastic, and the puppets were adorable.

So, lots of thanks to Captive Free Central Plains, a talented group with strong gifts for ministry. (And they figured out why my computer was projecting green-tinted images.) And thanks to everybody who helped to make their visit a success!

~Pastor Sarah

October newsletter

“Built on a rock the Church shall stand,
Even when steeples are falling;
Crumbled have spires in every land,
Bells still are chiming and calling…”

I’ve been thinking about this hymn recently, and not just because of the work being done at Indherred! In this parish, we know that steeples are important—and bells, too. Between our four congregations, we have four beautiful buildings in a variety of styles, standing as a physical witness to the presence of God in our midst, inspiring us to lift our eyes and hearts up to the heavens. We also know that with beautiful church buildings comes the responsibility (and sometimes the burden) of keeping them in good shape! There is always something that needs to be done.

As important as our buildings are, though, Nicolai Grundtvig’s classic hymn “Built on a Rock” (LBW #365) reminds us of what is truly foundational to our life together—no other Rock than Jesus Christ himself! Every earthly building will eventually decay. Every earthly institution will sometimes fail. Every steeple will finally fall (though not, if we can help it, for a very, very long time). But Christ remains constant. Always.

And so where steeples crumble, bells still ring out to call us back to worship. And where bells are silent, we hear God’s Word proclaimed in the voices of worshipers singing, or the cry of a newly-baptized child, or the quiet rustle of pages of Bibles or hymn-books. And Christ is present, because he is faithful to his promise. And, wonder of wonders, in him there is hope—not just in some distant future, but also right here and right now, in this place and with these people, temporary as it is, fragile as we are.

As the hymn concludes with the words of Jesus Christ:

“My peace I leave with you. Amen.”

~Pastor Sarah

Random highlights from Sunday

The following are some random highlights from our "outdoor" service yesterday afternoon.

1. The baby sparrow with cute, stubby wings that was lurking in the rafters.


2. The leak in the ceiling, which happened to fall in the perfect location. I've always wondered what it would be like to have a running water baptismal font!


3. The rain, which we really needed.


4. That thing where you throw a hula hoop so that it comes back to you.


5. The men who sang a capella. (With rain accompaniment, of course.)


6. Singing "How Great Thou Art" in harmony. With really noisy rain, and birds chirping in the background (it goes with the lyrics, get it?).

~Pastor Sarah